Yesterday had certainly been overwhelming, and Henrietta had looked forward to a day of rest, today being Sunday. Not that she or the Scringeours were religious, but there was typically so little to do on Sundays that they'd spend half the day in Helga's bedroom anyway, only venturing out to the parlor, the garden, or perhaps, if they were feeling really adventurous and could convince someone to accompany them, to a walk through Padmore Park. Today, Henri had gotten out a fresh canvas for her watercolor, and was shifting her eyes between Helga's window and the blank white surface, trying to decide what to paint when Helga made her announcement.

Henri's brow furrowed and she set her pencil down on the windowsill. "Our findings?" she echoed, feeling a surge of anxiety at this unexpected turn of the conversation. "About the spells? Goodness, Helga. I dare say we weren't close enough to really hear any of them. At least, I didn't. And I certainly hope I'm never in a position to need any magic like that," she said, with a half shudder. The idea of combat magic being turned against her made her stomach crawl (and nevermind that Defense had consistently been her best class; Henrietta was determined never to mention it to anyone, in hopes that they might forget, since it was such a terribly unladylike pursuit).